<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Torture Me (All I've Wanted) by casket4mytears</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25020079">Torture Me (All I've Wanted)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/casket4mytears/pseuds/casket4mytears'>casket4mytears</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Spies Like LoVe [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, All Tied Up With No Place To Go, F/M, Interrogation, Keeping It PG-13 Because I'm Delicate, Mild Kink, My Safe Word Is Pentothal, Songfic, Spies &amp; Secret Agents, Spy versus Spy, Stay For The Ending, VMTAP20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:55:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,854</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25020079</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/casket4mytears/pseuds/casket4mytears</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Six months of careful planning.  Six months of pursuit across three continents.  Six months of plying informants for details of movements, for insight into a chessboard unseen—it had all built to this.</p><p>Agent Logan Echolls has finally acquired his target, Agent Veronica Mars.  Now, he wants answers...</p><p>A one-shot love note to a beloved trope for Veronica Mars Trope-A-Palooza 2020</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Spies Like LoVe [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2243580</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>83</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Gotta Blame It On My Tropes Baby</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Torture Me (All I've Wanted)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warning:  un-beta'ed and written in three hours while spinning a playlist featuring some spy-worthy tunes.  Forgive all typos I will eventually spot and edit.</p><p>This one-shot love note to spyfic inspired by the Metric song, "Torture Me".  I recommend spinning it.  It adds... ambiance.  And if the beginning throws you off, have faith in me:  this is a LoVe story.  Mind the tags and stay until the end. *wink*</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><span class="u"><strong>Torture Me (All I've Wanted)</strong></span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Six months of careful planning.  Six months of gathering intelligence, of pursuit across three continents, of near-misses in several major cities.  Six months of plying informants for details of movements, for insight into a chessboard unseen—it had all built to this.</p><p>Standing in the centre of the room, staring at the fiery blonde bound and gagged to the plush armchair before him, Logan Echolls smirked.  <em>Checkmate.</em></p><p>“You really didn’t think I wouldn’t find you eventually, did you?”</p><p>Her blue eyes were glaciers as she watched him stoke the flames in the fireplace.  No heat would thaw her.  <em>Good.</em>  He enjoyed the challenge.</p><p>“I like your dress,” he demurred, sweeping his hand along the elegant red gown she’d worn to tonight’s gala at The Met.  “Red strapless satin suits you.”</p><p>She muttered something behind the gag and he cocked his head to the side.  “Hmm, no, I don’t believe I will go fuck myself.  I’m on the clock.  You understand.”</p><p>Six months.  It was a long time to chase, to hunt.  Now that he had her in his grasp, he found himself at a loss.  Extracting intelligence was always paramount, of course, but there was a sense of grief when the pursuit ended.  The adrenaline dump, the letdown.  He would need to take his time with this one, savour the victory.  Few adversaries posed such complications.</p><p>Reaching for his Bowie knife on the table, he crouched beside her.  “Now, if I release your gag, can we chat calmly?  Not that it matters if you scream:  there’s no one within ten miles of us.”</p><p>She shivered slightly, then nodded her assent.  Dragging the dull end of the blade along her arm, he moved behind her and untied the gag, pulling it away from her lips.  Those pouty, perfect lips that loved to curse in his presence.  They did not disappoint.</p><p>“Couldn’t handle me without knocking me out and tying me to a <em>fucking</em> chair?”</p><p>“To be fair, you’re freshly manicured, Bobcat.  I’m well acquainted with your claws.”</p><p>“When—and I stress <em>when</em>—I’m free of these ropes, I’ll reacquaint you with them.  Leave a mark you’ll never forget,” she warned.</p><p>Logan chuckled darkly, tossing the knife in the air with a practiced spin and catching it by the blade.  “Pretty sure I’m the one who’s branded you in our past encounters, Agent Mars.  Or would you prefer one of your pseudonyms tonight?  I do love the characters you play.  Sorority Amber?  The haughty librarian, Elizabeth?  Or maybe,” he mused, “you could resurrect that anime convention look from last month in Japan.  Soraya, was it?  The black wig, the tie…”</p><p>“Better than ten versions of <em>rich asshole</em>.  How did you even get hired?  You’re the son of celebrities, for God’s sake!”  She tossed her head back, chin jutting out defiantly.  “If you’re going to torture me, get on with it.  I’m bored.  Unless your self-absorbed rambling is the torture, in which case, maybe you’re onto something.”</p><p>“Every spy is self-absorbed, darling.  It comes with the cyanide pill.”  He moved in closer, mindful of the give of her torso restraints, lest she sink her teeth into his neck.  “Tell me of your last mission, Mars.”</p><p>“You know I will never tell you that, you psychotic jackass!”</p><p>“Amendment:  tell me of how you <em>felt</em> on your last mission,” he continued, staring at her intently.  “And don’t bother with deception:  the Pentothal should be kicking in any second now.”</p><p>Her eyes narrowed as she surged forward against her bonds.  “You gave me <em>truth serum?</em>  Are you kidding me, Echolls?”</p><p>“Desperate times,” he replied, tapping his knife on the arm of the chair.  “You’ve been a thorn in my side for too long.  I need results.”</p><p>Veronica cursed beneath her breath, staring at the ceiling of the log cabin.  The fire crackled and popped as he waited for her surrender.  It surely wouldn’t be long now.</p><p>“You know how I felt,” she murmured.</p><p>“Maybe I don’t,” he whispered.</p><p>“Logan, please…  You <em>know</em>.”  Her hand strained against her bonds, reaching for him.  “You have to.  But the mission—”</p><p>“Is taking too fucking long,” he blurted out, pressing his lips to hers.</p><p>She moaned softly as his tongue skirted her lips, seeking entrance she eagerly provided.  His fingers tangled in her hair as he straddled her waist, eagerly deepening the kiss.  She craned her neck, meeting him with all of the fire and longing they’d shared in that fleeting moment in Japan one month ago, hidden in a service elevator.</p><p>God, that black wig was hot.  He’d grabbed her by that fucking tie and pinned her against the elevator wall, thrusting his hand beneath that tiny kilt and stealing a touch, a taste of the woman he loved more than life.</p><p>They broke apart breathlessly, Veronica pressing her forehead to his with a soft smile.</p><p>“I miss you.”</p><p>“I miss you too.”  His lips grazed her neck, her ear, nipping it gently.  “I demand more answers, Agent Mars.”</p><p>“Pentothal only works for a limited time when you’re straddling me like this.”</p><p>Pentothal.  Their code phrase for <em>I need to break the fantasy</em>.  Spy humor.  But there was one more answer he needed tonight, before she slipped back into the anonymity of the field.</p><p>“I’ll be quick.  About this,” he added quickly, slipping a hand between her thighs and pushing them apart.  “I plan to take my time tonight.”</p><p>“You fucking better,” she panted.  “Six goddamn months chasing this asshole, Logan.  The ineptitude of the agency…  I’m never going dark again.”</p><p>Reaching inside his pants pocket, he withdrew a small black box covered in velvet.  “This item was recovered from a jeweller in San Diego, Agent Mars.  It was billed under your name.  Is it yours?”</p><p>Logan flipped open the box, revealing the princess cut diamond set in a platinum band encrusted with tiny stones to match.  Veronica’s jaw fell slack as she stared at the ring, then him.</p><p>“Logan… is that…”</p><p>“Our lives are dangerous, Veronica.  Every day we wake up, it could be our last.  We could end up a lonely star on a fucking wall.  And we chose that life, and I accept that choice.  But I want you to know that wherever you are, you are my life.  My world.  That nothing will ever separate us, not in our hearts.  Marry me, Veronica.  Please?”</p><p>He’d waited six years to ask, knowing her fears and hesitations.  He hoped that it was enough evidence for her to prove herself wrong.  A watery sheen glistened over her irises as she studied the ring intently.</p><p>“You know they won’t let me wear it in the field.”</p><p>“But… you’ll wear it?” </p><p>“If you untie me.”  She laughed softly, tugging on her arms.  “You really need to teach me these knots.”</p><p>“Years of sailing as a <em>rich asshole</em>,” he quipped as he reached for his knife.  “Veronica, I need to hear it.”</p><p>“Yes.  Yes, Logan.”</p><p>Blade met rope and binds released, freeing an enthusiastic Veronica to wrap herself around Logan’s frame.  Her three-inch heels negotiated their height difference as she kissed him passionately, pressing taut against him.  His hand hooked beneath her right knee, hitching it against his hip.</p><p>“Gimme my ring,” she murmured against his lips.</p><p>He obliged her, slipping the diamond on her left hand with a sense of wonder and disbelief.  Aside from threatening (then crying in front of) her handler, following her to Sweden, kidnapping her from a hotel and driving her to this farmhouse, proposing had proven much easier than he’d anticipated.  He’d expected tears, fears, rejection.  Awkward, angry sex.  Not… this.</p><p>“I can’t wait to <em>not</em> tell anyone about this proposal,” Veronica purred.</p><p>“If anyone asks, it was at Niagara Falls,” Logan replied.</p><p>“Ew, no.  How about… the World’s Biggest Ball of Yarn?  Quirky, yet still boring?”</p><p>“Maybe I just made dinner at home?  Walk on the beach?”</p><p>As Veronica’s fingers slid down his shirt, deftly unbuttoning his shirt, she smirked.  “Or maybe the Pentothal wore off, and it’s time you make good on that promise to take your time with me…”</p><p>“As long as you keep your word about <em>leaving your mark</em>, Bobcat.”</p><p>Veronica’s eyes darkened as she pushed his shirt off his shoulders.  “You won’t be able to use your Surfer Boy cover for at least a week when I’m done.”</p><p>Running a palm over her satin-covered ass, Logan groaned.  “How much do you like that dress?”</p><p>“It’s nice, but I’m not partial to it.  Why?”</p><p>Reaching for his Bowie knife, Logan grinned.  “Because it’s not long for this world…”</p><p>“In our field,” Veronica murmured, “there are casualties.  And I do love watching you work.”</p><p>They’d met in the field, paired on a mission to intercept an intelligence drop between a foreign diplomat and Mossad.  Veronica had impressed him with her ability to smooth talk her way into any situation and plant electronics; he’d impressed her with his combat skills.  The agency had paired them for several missions, until it became apparent they were more than colleagues.</p><p>Their personal connection had never impacted a mission, but policy, bureaucracy, and a director with a dislike of Logan had not played in their favour.  These days, paired missions were rare one-offs they treasured.</p><p>Hoisting her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, he grinned.  “You know, if you read me in, I could help you find this elusive asshole keeping you from me and <em>my work</em>.”</p><p>“Logan,” she whined, kicking her heels as he walked her towards the bedroom.  “You know I can’t!”</p><p>“I’m just saying, we were more efficient as a team.”  He tossed her on the bed, tugging the skirt of her dress away from her slender thighs.  “Like so…”</p><p>His Bowie knife flicked, parting the delicate material like a pat of butter.  Veronica bit her lip as he split the skirt to her waist, revealing her tiny red thong. </p><p>“You <em>knew</em> I was on your trail, didn’t you?”</p><p>Veronica grinned, rubbing her thighs together.  “Do you <em>really</em> think I would fuck up and reuse an alias at a hotel like that?  Especially that one?”</p><p><em>Rachel McCoy</em>.  The name she used when they’d gone undercover as a married couple in Italy.  It was the mission where she’d first confessed her feelings for him.  He’d assumed it was a recycled passport, perhaps a twinge of longing.  Knowing it was deliberate…</p><p>“I love you.”</p><p>“I love you, too.”</p><p>She beckoned him closer with a finger and he stripped off his pants and obeyed, crawling up her body to meet her hungry mouth.  His hands wrapped around her wrists, just as he knew she loved, pinning them gently over her head as she leaned up to tug his lower lip with her teeth.</p><p>“It would seem you’ve captured me, Agent Echolls.  Now torture me.”</p><p>Six months of ring shopping.  Six months of pleading with superiors, of taking leaves for a pursuit across three continents.  Six months of plying colleagues and Veronica’s handler Wallace for details of her movements—it had all built to this.</p><p>“It’s all I’ve wanted,” he vowed, sealing it with a kiss.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>